Finding Lorcan
by Empress Empoleon
Summary: It's ironic that the one thing that always bonded you together is what eventually breaks you apart. / Lorcan's true feelings about his twin finally come out in an argument during their fourth year, and now he's on an inner journey to try and find the old brother he used to love, to learn how to love, and most importantly, how to be himself.
1. Twins

Lorcan&Lysander. Two parts of one whole. _Twins._

It's ironic that the one thing that always bonded you together is what eventually breaks you apart.

* * *

You can't say that you've ever liked the way you're always confused to be Lysander.

When people see you, they just make a lucky guess. They call you Lorcan, like they should, half the time, and Lysander for the other half. They can never keep track of who's who, just because both of you have blonde hair and stormy eyes that distract them from concentrating.

It's simple. Really. Obviously, the one who isn't him is you, and the one that is you isn't him.

* * *

You grew up without a mirror. Your mother always said you would never need one.

You used to laugh, but now, looking into Lysander's eyes, you only see a hollow copy.

* * *

You two are nothing alike.

* * *

You remember when you first got your Hogwarts letter, at age eleven. Lysander opened it next to you at the same time, your squeals of happiness synchronized.

Maybe shopping at Diagon Alley was the beginning of it all.

You were excited to be measured for robes. Walking into Madam Malkin's, the prospect of being a student at Hogwarts suddenly seemed so much more real.

Lysander steps up to be measured first, and you watch with an excited gleam in your eyes as the magical measuring tape swirls its self all over his body.

The woman hands your father a set of robes, and he leads you out. Your eyes widen and you tug on his sleeve.

"What about me? Why didn't I get measured? I need robes too!"

He looks down at you, bemused. "Have you forgotten, Lorcan? You and Lysander have the same sizes. Only one of you has to be measured."

It is the first time that having a twin has been so disappointing to you.

* * *

You each get your own books and the rest, and you slowly forget about the feeling you had when you didn't get measured.

But it comes back in full strength later on.

Walking into Eeylops Owl Emporium, you can't believe what you're seeing. Owls, cats, and toads of all kinds surround you, chirping and croaking in all sorts of different ways that sound into a pleasant hum in your ear.

There are so many to choose from.

A soft hoot comes from beside you. You turn to see a pure white owl, gently ruffling its feathers.

You can't breathe. It is absolutely beautiful.

"Father-" you begin, but before you can finish, Lysander shouts about what seems to be a very average barn owl.

Lysander has always been the more impulsive one out of you two.

Your father is asking for the price of that owl. You run up to him, and grab him by the arm.

"But Father, I want that one." You point to that breathtakingly gorgeous owl that continues to stare at you with its intelligent eyes.

Your father's eyes widen in shock - you didn't know then, but it was probably because you never wanted something different from Lysander. "But, son, you only need one owl."

The room crashes down in front of you. All you can hear is his words, _oneoneoneoneoneone_, and that snow white owl's eyes begging for you.

The sleeve of his robes flies out of your hand and you take a step back. Glaring ferociously at the floor, you don't say a word.

Sighing, your father bends down to your level. "Lorcan. Lorcan, look at me."

You sadly look at him, trying to hide the brimming tears that no eleven year old boy should shed.

"I know you really want that owl," he begins gently, "but you only need one. And I'm sure Lysander would be very disappointed if we didn't get this one, so let's be nice to him and get the one he wants this time, okay?"

All you can hear is _nonononono_, biting through you like knives.

It is the first time you have truly hated your twin.

* * *

**"RAVENCLAW!"** the Sorting Hat cries about two seconds after it hits Lysander's head. Lysander grins, before bounding down to the table to sit and save a seat for you.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you take those few fateful steps up to the stool, where that single hat may very well decide the rest of your life.

The chatter of the hall fades away as the worn fabric settles around your head.

_Aaahhh...you are smart, but quiet..._it whispers into your head. _You try to speak, but the words will not come. You yearn to break away from him._

You pretend that you don't understand what it's saying, because right now, you're tied together far too tight.

_You have confidence, and a bit of courage, deep down...but it will come out on it's own in time. Now, you are a-_

You know where this is going. Courage that will come in time. Not Gryffindor. No confidence or ambition. Not Slytherin. And well, breaking away is hardly a Hufflepuff thing to do-

_No!_ You cry in your head, but it is drowned out by the hat screaming, **"RAVENCLAW!"** to the Great Hall.

You smile, but your insides are in turmoil. You had just subconsciously entertained the thought of what it would be like to be in a different House from your brother, to be anything but the Ravenclaw your mother and father always said you would be.

Your heart pounds for anything but the disheartening sapphire blues that welcome you.

"We're together again, Lor!" Lysander gleefully says, but you just nod absentmindedly, staring at the boisterous Gryffindor table.

* * *

Now that they've reached the W's, everyone settles back for a long string of redhead sorting.

Albus, who had come before everyone because of his last name, had been Sorted into Slytherin, providing the shock of the night. Rose went into Gryffindor as expected, along with Louis, but Roxanne became a Hufflepuff.

There was one Weasley left for the night, and as she daintily sat straight on the stool, you couldn't help but gaze at her in wonder.

Lucy Weasley. She had always been the one to talk to you at the reunions, when no one else would.

**"RAVENCLAW!"** the Hat cries, and she smiles so gently you don't think it's possible and makes her way down to sit next to Lysander.

"It's nice to have friends, isn't it?" she says, and you lose yourself in her blue orbs, wondering whether you have to share her or not.

* * *

The year goes on, and flows into the second and the third. They blur together, in shades of black and white and grays, with a few bursts of color from Lucy.

Fourth year comes, and you see how different everything has become.

Lysander is more...open. He has friends and he laughs and jokes and has fun.

He hardly talks to you anymore. You can see why.

You have sunken into yourself. You've always had trouble making friends - always the quiet one - but now that Lysander is no longer yours and yours alone, you have no one.

The old and crinkled pages rustle as you gently turn them. Books, worn by age, and the silent library; these are your new friends and home.

"Lorcan? Can I sit with you?"

Except her. She will always be there. "Sure, Lucy."

The seat next to you squeaks as she sits in it, pulling out her diary to write in it.

This is your friendship. It is more made up of the silence between you than the words.

* * *

The mask chips away one evening in the library.

You're in the far back. No one else if here. Even the librarian is too far to hear you, and well, you were reading a story about twins and you just-

You sniffle, quickly wiping away the brimming tears with your sleeve. Why were you always so damn emotional?

"Lorcan?" A soft, breathy voice sounds next to him, and he turns to see a girl staring with deep, understanding eyes.

"Why?" you ask. "Why don't I have anybody?"

You are answered by a pair of thin arms wrapping around your torso.

"You'll always have me," she whispers into your shirt.

You feel warm, and a little light-headed as you smell the lemon from her hair.

You will _always_ have her.

* * *

For however smart you are, you've never understood romance all too much.

You're not sure what to make the hug. You suppose it's in friendship, but you don't know why every time you think about it you just want to pour ice on your face to stop it from getting so hot.

You don't know why every time you see her, you stutter.

You don't stutter. _Ever._

"How've you been, Lorcan?" Lysander asks one day in the dorm when no one else is there. You glance up at him, surprised.

"Why are you taking to me?" you ask.

A look of hurt briefly strikes his face before he's back to smiling his worries away. "Is it wrong for me to talk to you? I'm your twin brother!"

_Not really,_ you can't help but think. _The last time you've talked to me is at home during Christmas break._

"What's wrong, Lor?"he asks, pity lacing his voice.

It hits you and you wonder why you haven't realized it before.

He doesn't care.

"You don't care, so why should I tell you?" you blurt bluntly. You also have this feeling of not talking to him about Lucy.

She's _yours_. He shouldn't get any piece of her heart.

"What do you mean? I love you," he says but his words are lost against the roaring in your ears.

"If you did, you would talk to me, right? You would spend time with me, and wouldn't leave me all alone for four years!" You're yelling now. The words that have stayed pent up for far too long are now flowing out like water out of a broken dam. "It's your fault that we're like this now, not mine!"

Anger flashes on his face. ""What do you mean _not your fault_? What do you mean, _I_ don't care? _You're_ the one who just drifted away from me. You didn't even bother to talk to me since first year and I got so damn lonely-"

He cuts himself off, looking the other way and running his hand through his hair.

* * *

He has always been impulsive.

* * *

"I think it's better if we don't talk to each other for a little more," you tentatively begin, seeing what must be done. "We can take some time, and figure things out."

"I think that is a good idea," Lysander harshly says, glaring at you. He then stomps away, leaving you choking on the empty air of loneliness.

You shut your book close with a tone of finality as you stare up at the ceiling.

* * *

_Twins._

* * *

A/N: **Image Credit goes to Heldrad (Flor) on devianART.**

I've always wanted to write a multi-chapter about these two, so here we go! However the first chapter, which could possibly stand alone as a one-shot, is entered in:

Quidditch Competition Round 11 (Prompts: "What do you mean, not your fault?"; choke; Don't Go, Rae Morris.)


	2. Freedom

_"In freedom, most people find sin."- John Green, The Fault In Our Stars._

* * *

The first morning of your new-found freedom.

It's quite liberating, to be honest.

After your eyes open, it takes a few minutes to settle. First comes the crashing of events upon your soul, from all the memories to the ripping apart from yesterday; next comes the tragic, overwhelming loneliness; and now, finally, you feel as if you are lighter and more free, like there was a chain binding your two souls together and it has been cut.

You can breathe now.

* * *

At breakfast, you try not to look too excited.

Lysander avoids your eyes completely at the table, ignoring your presence. It's not like he acknowledged it before either, so it's not much of a change at all.

You pour yourself a glass of juice, and you feel the beginnings of a frown on your face.

_This is what I wanted, _you tell yourself. _I didn't want to have to be so connected to Lysander, because he doesn't even care and because I can't be myself with him lingering around. I wanted this freedom. _

You know in the back of your mind that you're only feeling this way because you actually thought, somewhere inside you, that Lysander cared so much for you that _he'd _run back apologizing.

However, Lysander _doesn't _apologize, and you settle for ignoring your own crippling dependency as you make plans to become a new Lorcan Scamander.

* * *

Lysander glares at you. It's barely noticeable, amongst all these people, and he's doing it in a way where it doesn't show, with barely enough force.

Lorcan's seen it before, and he recognizes it now. Lysander's signature glare.

He's angry.

You're not though, and you're not sure what that means.

* * *

Yesterday you weren't sure how this would play out. You thought it might be a nightmare.

But in truth, you are finally out of your cage, and this was anything but a nightmare.

* * *

Who is Lorcan Scamander?

This question starts to haunt you as you look out at the Black Lake.

Who are you, now that you're just Lorcan and not Lorcan&Lysander? _Who am I?_

You know you're not a copy of Lysander, that's for sure. You're sick of being compared to him. You are your own person; you are _Lorcan _and not anything else that binds you to Lysander.

But there has to be something deeper, right? There has to be some part of you that never surfaced because it was always overshadowed by Lysander. What is that?

You search within yourself. You're introverted. You like to read. You're at the top of your don't have may friends.

Lucy's there too. You're not really sure what part she plays inside of you, but you know she's important if she makes you feel so _alive_, so you place her at the top of the list, wondering why exactly being around her feels like a chemical explosion.

* * *

"Lorcan? Are you all right?"

It's Lucy's breathy voice, sending shivers down your spine as she innocently whispers into your ear. Grinning, you whirl around and throw your arms around her thin frame in an odd mixture of uncontrollable giddiness and teenage hormones.

"Lorcan?" she asks in alarm, but you only hold her tighter, inhaling her strawberry scent. "What's wrong?"

Your eyes widen as you realize what you're doing. Awkwardly, you untangle yourself from her and turn the other way, and you feel a ferocious blush covering your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, coughing. Inwardly, you're furious with yourself.

How could you just do something like that? You have no idea how she'll react to this. She might be mad at him for breaking into her personal space, or she might be horrified and will stay away from him.

If she leaves, you don't know what you will do. She's the only one you have left, and as a new Lorcan, you intend to keep her around forever.

A ringing laugh interrupts you from your thoughts.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Lor, but it's good to see you so happy," she says. "Sometimes I get worried about you being so closed off and quiet. It's good for you to let out your emotions sometimes."

You glance at her out of the corner of your eyes, to see her, all adorable and innocent and short.

You flash her a brief smile, and she just laughs again.

"Will you tell me though? Why you're so happy? Friends should be glad together," she says.

She called you a friend. She said she wanted to be happy with you.

You almost throw your arms around her again before realizing that you _can't _tell her about you and Lysander.

You've been to enough Weasley parties to know that there is a very strong sense of family in them. You have a feeling that she wouldn't be happy at all to know that you were so glad to be rid of your twin brother, the person you should be closest to.

But you can't really _lie _to her.

You see the smile disappearing off her face slowly, like rain clouds slowly breaking the party on a sunny afternoon. "It's all right if you don't want to tell me, I just thought that since we're friends you'd-"

You stare at her, and she just shakes her head, as if she's disappointed in you for some reason.

_Why would she be disappointed?_ you wonder._ I didn't do anything wrong._

"I'm sorry-" you hesitantly begin, but she just looks up, beaming again.

"Don't worry about it!" She skips away, and you're happy that she's happy with you still, but for some reason, you can't help but think that she looked like she was covering up something else.

* * *

It crosses your mind, as you lay down in bed on your first night of freedom, that most people wouldn't feel so happy about being separated from someone as close as your identical twin.

You know the truth. You know that this is currently for the better, to have some space. You know that ever since you were eleven, you've had pent up, growing feelings of resentment towards your brother, for always being more approachable, more charismatic, more funny, and more open.

But still, you're awfully happy, more happy than any decent person would be over this.

In freedom, most people would be trying to connect again, trying to figure out a way to join together again.

However, you-

You have become someone who will easily leave your family behind, someone who will be happier in solitude with one of the few that cares for you hating you.

You have found sin.

You didn't know it would feel this great.

* * *

A/N: I actually updated! Yeah!

_Done for:_

_Quidditch Competition Round 13 (Prompts: __"In freedom, most people find sin."- John Green, The Fault In Our Stars._; truth; nightmare)


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